


We'll Be Good

by blueberry



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberry/pseuds/blueberry
Summary: Beth and Daryl make it to Alexandria, and make it official how much closer they've grown. For others, and for themselves, too.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	We'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alamorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/gifts).



Alexandria was peaceful. Quiet, beautiful, and peaceful. It wasn't going to last - Beth reminded herself of that, because she owed it to herself to remember the lessons she'd learnt. She still loved the hope of just looking at this place, and when Daryl spoke up where he strolled next to her, she knew he'd seen something of that in how she was acting.

"Who's the thank you note gonna be for, now you've seen all this?"

She didn't quite narrow her eyes at him, and he didn't quite smile as he continued.

"Big place. Gonna have a lot of people to cover. Don't get a wrist cramp, now, 'cause I still gotta see you show off in some more shooting lessons."

He was asking for it. Beth planned to get even with a whole letter of thanks, all for him.

Then she grinned as she thought of the rest of her family. They wouldn't get the joke if she did actually write something to each of them, but it would actually be nice to do it sincerely – most of them would appreciate it. Something to say everything she wanted ... or at least whatever would sound stupid out loud, or that she'd like to have the option of thinking over for a while.

Even with them, Beth told herself, it was better to stay cautious, in a way. She took a fortifying breath and Daryl looked over quick in alarm, recognising that she was working up to something.

"Yeah, well, before I start up that major project..." Beth discarded the humour in her voice and got serious. "I'd like to find out, first, how many more things there are to be thankful for. I want to figure out if everybody's willing to listen to me - our family, I mean - even about things they might not want to hear. But, um, that might not come up, really, 'cause first I gotta find out... Daryl, do you want to room together?"

He didn't scoff or tell her she was out of her mind right off the bat, and didn't that lead to a rise in hope so steep that it felt like too much to be sane. He did get fidgety, hefting his crossbow and looking all around.

"They get it, you know. Kinda. That you and me... How it was."

"Not just that we travelled together? That it was something more than that?"

“Yeah?” Daryl asked, and then cleared his throat of a voice so rough it made her think of drinking moonshine. “Yeah. That. Been months of travel. And us holdin’ hands and all.”

Beth felt a pang of guilt that Daryl was uncertain enough to question it. She’d been thinking things over since that stay at the funeral home and their interrupted redneck feast – taking her time to think and plan and truly look for hope was part of how she survived, and she wasn’t about to give it up. Still, it wasn’t a great feeling, laying your heart bare and getting silence and gestures in return. They didn’t even hold hands an awful lot.

“So we’re going to room together.” Beth said it with firmness, so as to make it up to Daryl a little. “And tell the others that’s how it is. One bed or two?”

“Up to the resources.” Daryl cast a look over the houses they passed for a second. “Probably two. Whatever.” Then he squinted up at the sky, blue and bright shreds peeking through cloud cover. "We'll be good."

Beth's insides did something _awful_. From knees to belly to eyes and brain, she was a spill of heat, at the sound of Daryl’s voice lilting enough to mimic the sound of singing one of her songs.

At the knowledge of being something he believed in. At the way he could stand to share that, off-hand but just for her.

-

So it was a shock when Daryl up and ran away from home.

-

“You track me?” Daryl called out.

“Did you climb up a tree so you could _escape better_?”

Beth’s resolve to be calm did its best to go up in smoke. She made a fuming noise for Daryl to hear, then scanned the area carefully to be sure nothing else had heard them. She had used a carrying kind of voice, there. When she looked up again, Daryl was also scanning to see what he could, and then, when their eyes met, he heaved himself down from the tree branch.

Muscles in his arms shifting as he dangled. She made herself stop looking, because it wouldn’t help if he noticed her at it.

“Scoping out a spot to build a fort. Bet the Leave it to Beaver types back there would love that.” Daryl shuffled like he would have been about to move closer to her – probably for a jovial elbow to the ribs or something. “You track me?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Beth allowed.

“Gonna have to tell Li’l Asskicker I named her after you.”

She huffed a laugh, but she also closed the gap between them to put a hand on one arm. Daryl sucked in a breath and – he swayed, towards and away from her in a messy movement.

“I meant what I said – well, implied with the question. About beds. It’s something to think about – I’m not asking to dive right into sex.”

Daryl cleared his throat so loudly that Beth did a reflexive scan of the surroundings again. Nothing but bugs and birds, as far as she could hear.

“I’m just thinking about it, about liking the idea of it for – you know, the future,” Beth finished.

“I – still kind of feel like I ought to say I ain’t, at all, ever ... I’m keeping you safe.” Daryl scoffed. “Keeping everybody else from cracking too many redneck jokes that could have a point.” He moved closer impulsively – making a point to absent eyes and his own fears as he rested his chin on her head and his hand on the small of her back.

“I’d like to sleep like this tonight,” Beth murmured.

“I’d like a jacuzzi. Right up in that tree. And a steak dinner with fried potatoes.”

Beth sighed, then felt bad about it and smiled at Daryl. “I’ve tracked this far. You think we could shoot you down one of those?”

They decided to head home instead, and went a little slowly with the normal closeness between them. Beth was kind of pissed off, but her whole body was breathing a sigh of relief at having Daryl with her again.

“Beth,” Daryl said, urgent all of a sudden, “you’re pretty. I’m not saying it ’cause chicks like to hear it, you know? I think you got that going for you. So it ain’t that making me go all pussy. You know what it is.”

“Tell me anyway. If you ever want to.”

It was reassuring to hear. They were a weird couple in her limited experience – they barely kissed, and she always initiated it. But Daryl had figured out in the last few months that he could touch her just about all over, and he’d crowd against her with his whole body and lean in, mouth to her hair, hand in a back pocket. Far from teenage makeouts. Not far enough, though.

-

There was only so much running he could do once she slipped her hands into his back pockets too.

-

Beth kissed so enthusiastically that she ended up backing Daryl against the drying shed’s wall. A drying shed wasn’t even a good place to kiss. Private, sure, but the meat smell didn’t make for the best atmosphere.

He started laughing after the small impact against his shoulder blades, indulgent and a little frantic. Beth stole a few more kisses and then pulled back, and jerked with a glorious little shock when Daryl didn’t want her to. He peppered a kiss on her lips and then her jaw, and kissed all down her neck. It was a picture of can’t-get-enough.

They went to their bedroom with its two beds pushed together. “I can’t, can’t hurt you, Beth,” Daryl begged.

She sprawled over him in delight. Bare chest to his, everything there for touch and admiration. The heave of his breath, the smatter of hair, the nipples she kept letting her fingertips stray over like he might not notice. Daryl’s eyes had gone so dark, and he was as flushed and hot as she was all over.

“Do you, um. Do you … do oral?” Beth whispered.

Daryl squinted at her. “Can’t say I’m an expert at eating pussy. Dunno if you’d like it.”

“Where you find your words sometimes—?!” She went a little crazy with them, with him lying there and begging her in all ways at once. She jerked herself up, knowing what she meant to do – before she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it, Daryl’s clutching fingers pulled her closer, over hips and thighs and ribs. He groaned and looked pleading again, and Beth sank down over his face.

She was careful. Her hammering heart wouldn’t let her be anything else. Covering his nose would be awful, putting too much weight on him unfair – she kept her gaze on his mouth as she covered it, feeling too much of the cold, then the jarring heat of Daryl exhaling, and then the resistance and warmth meeting hers. There was no chance of him making her wetter, though, and there was an awful kind of shame in that, and a line to her nerve endings in the same, and an awful kind of pleasure in the way Daryl had to know how she felt about him, this way.

His hands squeezed rhythmically at her thighs, the muscle she’d built up and what softness she had left over. Daryl’s eyes made her want to melt, careful the way he could be as his lips shifted, as his tongue moved. He licked at her and she shook for probably minutes on end.

The crazy thing was – it wasn’t enough, and here she was with her hands cramping with the way she clutched the pillow under his head. Even that scratch of his beard on her, making her heave breaths like she was about to sob, couldn’t get her to stop shifting, to stop grinding – just a little. With tilting her hips she could get his licking tongue to move so strong and sure over where she needed it. “There, there, there-there-there—”

“OK. Magic button,” Daryl murmured, and it was a shame Beth didn’t have it together enough to laugh. In another moment Daryl had started the give something other than those powerful licks a try and he sucked on her clit in between, plush force even stronger than what he’d done already, and then sighed out the pure nothing of hot breath all over her and Beth scrambled to kiss him hard as her orgasm hit, a bite of lightning, her body tense and wide open and shaking.

Beth put one hand in his hair and ran the other all over Daryl’s body, maybe dizzy, maybe possessive, maybe eager. “So, you have a magic wand?” she suggested.

“You mind—jerking?” He made the hand motion, because often, after all, Daryl didn’t have the words.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Beth whispered with another kiss. She asked him if it was all right if he kept lying there the same way; he nodded without giving her a chance to say that she liked the view. She thought she made it clear all the same.

It was strange and right to touch him – his dick, she could think that in her own head, for Pete’s sake. All the lines of his body coming together interrupted and natural, and this hot and hard part of him, vulnerable and ready for her. Daryl chewed his lower lip as she explored, and Beth got a firm grip before his lip ended up in ribbons. This was going to be inside her, and she didn’t think it would be too long before they did that. The veins, the wet-smeared tip, that little hole that made Daryl cry out when she tipped her tongue over it. Hard for her, all for her.

He gave her a few instructions, and wrapped his hand around hers when it came to the last few thrusts. He made such a _mess_ \- and Beth was proud, of that and her own sticky thighs.

It was a whole different way for them to make a home. Like all the others, she loved it.


End file.
